Only Way Forward
by Fayth85
Summary: Devon Dwyer, eldest of three. She'd recently moved to Sinnoh with her family and now seeks to start her journey with her very own Pokémon. What could possibly go wrong...


_**Only Way Forward**_

_**"Devon Dwyer, eldest of three. She'd recently moved to Sinnoh with her family and now seeks to start her journey with her very own Pokémon. What could possibly go wrong..."**_

_**Chapter 1 - Enter Devon!**_

_**8-8**_

* * *

><p>My name? Arceus, what do I write down? I don't want to write down 'Jake'. I hate that name! I mean, don't get me wrong it's a great name, it just should never have been mine. So what do I write?<p>

"Need any help, darlin'?" One of the interns asks. I look up at her, marvelling at her hair, her subtle makeup, her expressive eyes, the way her uniform shows just enough bust to never let you doubt her sex. Everything she has, everything she is, I hate her for it.

"No." I look back down to my registration paper, once again wondering what to write. Let's see, mom's name is Chantal – a very pretty name. But no self respecting woman would name her daughter after herself – only guys do that. What about Grandma? Her name was... Margaret? A pretty name, but a bit old fashioned. What about dad's mother? I don't even know her, and mom never talks about his side of the family, so no help there.

You know what, it'll come to me. Let me fill in the rest of the form for now. Sex? Female, duh. Birthday and age? I'll just write down ten for now, seeing as tomorrow is my tenth birthday. Residency? Solaceon Town in Sinnoh, duh. Hair color? Why would they spell colour without the 'u'? Whatever, it's black. Eye color? Again with the bad spelling! Grey. Height and weight? I don't know! Do I look like a paediatrician? That's getting skipped.

I go through the form quickly enough, wondering why they are asking half the crap I read. I mean, the Sinnoh Pokémon League Registration shouldn't need to know my allergies!

Now, there's just the name. What is my name? What name do I like enough that can help me get away with... No, I'm not 'getting away' with anything! I am simply stating the truth that no one seems to understand! I am a girl! I've always been a girl! And this might be my only chance to have half a hope in truly being me!

"Ah!" Auntie Devon! Mom used to tell me about her all the time! Well, usually before breaking down in tears and hiding in her room for the rest of the day.

Name. Devon Dwyer. I nod at the form, solidifying my very first step. Wordlessly I hand it over to the intern and wait. She flits through it, checking that I filled everything in. I notice that she sees the height and weight I left empty. She eyes me for a second before scribbling something there.

"Perfect. I'll just enter this in our National database. Have you already received your invitation to receive your starter Pokémon?" She's asks, trying to be as friendly as she can while still being professional. I shake my head, no. "That's okay. Professor Rowan is currently unavailable anyway, so you'd have gone all the way to Sandgem Town for nothing." She babbles on about whatever that person does, and how irresponsible it is for the 'senile old coot' to just up and go on a research trip and a whole bunch of crap I don't bother following.

"Look, I'm not really supposed to tell you this, but I know you're probably dying to get your first Pokémon. So I'll let you in on a little secret if you promise you won't get me in trouble for it?" She's nice enough, I guess. I nod. "Okay, you know the Day Care Centre? Well, my boyfriend works there and he told me about this egg he found there yesterday. The trainer already came for the Pokémon, but said they didn't want the egg, so now they're looking for someone to adopt it!"

"So, if you go to there and ask for Trevor and tell him I sent you, he'll probably let you take the egg. Of course, you'd have to swear on everything sacred to take care of it, but this way you wouldn't have to wait for that old coot to come back – whenever that might be." Okay, so she's nice. Not that I'll hate her any less, but at least she's nice. "Just make sure you don't flirt with my boyfriend after all I've done to help you out, okay?" She has a teasing smile on her face, and she winks at me too.

I nod, wondering what she even means by that. "You must be pretty shy. So I guess I don't have to worry about that, now do I?" I shake my head, wondering about that. Sure, I've never really been very good with people, but I don't consider myself shy. "Well, alright then. Just remember what I said. Ask for Trevor and tell him that Jen sent you."

"Th-thank you." I nod, and hightail it out of there.

_**8-8**_

* * *

><p>Refusing to risk messing up the chance I am given, I run all the way to the Day Care Centre. It's almost a ten minute dash, but the chance to get my first Pokémon is worth being out of breath!<p>

The sun hides behind a could... no, not _a_ cloud. The whole sky seems to be one giant cloud right now. Hm, if I'm lucky it'll rain soon. I wonder if it'll be a Water-type Pokémon. Or a Grass-type. I hope it's not a Fire-type, I love being in in the rain too much to ever be truly friends with a Fire-type.

Coming close to the open ranch-like expanse, I can see dozens and dozens of Pokémon in the distance – all safely within the fences of the Day Care Centre, I suppose. I'm not really very good with spotting Pokémon, so I don't recognize many of them.

I don't want to risk wasting too much time, so I don't stop to admire them this time. Instead, I sprint straight for the door and almost fall over my own two feet trying to slow down enough to not run head first into it. I pull the door open and dash inside, looking around for the nice little old lady that's usually behind the counter. Not that I've ever talked to her before, but I've seen her there every time I come to admire the Pokémon, and she's always seemed nice enough.

"Whoa there! Where's the fire?" Some guy asks, motioning for me to calm down. I don't recognize him, but I usually avoid people anyway. He's about twice my height, is wearing a cowboy hat, a plain white short-sleeve t-shirt, jeans and the usual cowboy boots that everyone wears around here. His tan is pretty dark, but I think that's because he works in the sun all day, every day. "Wait, you wouldn't happen to be Devon, now would you?"

Even though I'm fighting to catch my breath, I nod. "Jen just called saying you might swing by, but I didn't expect you so soon! What'd you run all the way here?" He asks. I guess he sounds a little amused, but he could be teasing me too. I nod again.

"Well, alright. I guess you want to adopt that egg then, huh?" I nod fervently! I REALLY want my first friend! I never did have many friends before. I mean, the only one I ever play with is Jack, and he's barely two years old!

"I see. Well, I can't just have anyone come in off the street and take an egg. It's a major responsibility!" He informs me. Is he... telling me no? But I... but Jen... I thought... I have to fight back the tears now. This scene is all too familiar to me: she promises the stars, but he shoots them down before I even get there.

"Aww, come on don't cry!" He says, motioning for me to calm down again. For all his cool-guy bravado, he clearly doesn't know what to do now. "Hey, look I don't mean you can't have the egg!"

"Trevor, what's going on here?" The nice little old lady comes through the door from wherever she was hiding. "Are you out here making little children cry?" I'm not crying! I don't like crying!

"Aww, come on Mrs McKinney! You know I didn't mean to make her cry!" Trevor sounds overwhelmed and unsure what to do – I know the tone well enough. The two keep saying things to each other, but I'm too busy trying to calm down. I don't like crying, but I hate people seeing me cry.

"Oh, I recognize you now. You're the one that stands out by the fence and daydreams about our Pokémon, aren't you?" The nice old lady asks – I guess that means her name is Mrs McKinney? "You've been standing by that fence every day for the past two weeks. I always did wonder why you never came inside to ask about them. What's your name, dear?"

"D-devon." I hate myself for never being able to get out so much as a word without stammering, stuttering or otherwise messing up the beauty of the words I love so much.

"My, that's a lovely name. Tell me, Devon, would you like some lemonade? It's home made." I try to smile a little at her kind words, and her offer. I'm just not really sure if I did or not. "Trevor, be a dear and fetch it for me, will you?" I hear the warmth in her voice, both when talking to me and to Trevor. She reminds of me Grandma.

Mrs McKinney motions for me to come closer, while she takes her time moving to her usual seat – at the table in the corner, near the window she peers out of. Every time I come by, she's always sitting in that chair. She always seems to be gazing out at the same Pokémon as me, but I never could say for sure what she was thinking. "Please, have a seat." She nods to the chair opposite hers.

I'm not sure why, but I did just that. Trevor came back with a jug filled with a yellow-brown liquid and a huge chunk of ice, and two glasses to pour it into. Without being told, he places one of the glasses in front of me and pours it half full, repeating the process for Mrs McKinney. "Thank you, Trevor. Now run along, I'm sure you have enough work to do to."

While she sips at her lemonade, I can't help but study her. She's wearing the same buttoned plaid shirt and jeans she always does. Her hair is short and grey, but shines to show she cares for it and styled like those ladies in those old Wild West movies – long in the back, with bangs in the front and clearly missing her usual cowboy hat.

"Is it sweet enough for you?" She asks, probably noticing that I haven't even tried it yet. I slurp a little from the glass. It's sweet, so I nod. I take another few sips, but I wasn't really thirsty to begin with. "Tell me, Devon, how long've you been in town?"

"F-few w-weeks." I don't dare looking her in the eyes when she's looking at me. It's not that she scares me, I just get nervous when people are looking at me.

"Are you settled in then?" She asks again. I just nod. "You live with your family?"

"Y-yeah." I smile, actually smile this time.

"Your father and mother?" I shake my head, telling her my dad didn't move with us. "I see. Any siblings?"

"J-jack." I smile, thinking about my little brother. "He's t-two." I frown, wondering if I should bring up Julie. It's not that I dislike my baby sister, I just... well I love her, but I hate her too. It's... complicated.

"Do you help take care of him?" She asks. I can't tell what she's thinking, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. I stutter out a yes, wondering where she's going with this. "What do you help with?"

"Ev-vryth-thing." Wow, a double stutter. I guess long words are worth mangling twice.

"Minding him?" She asks. I nod. "Feeding him?" I nod again. "Bathing?" Again a nod. "Did you ever have to change his diaper?" I make a face this time, but nod anyway. Dirty nappies aren't my favourite thing in the world.

"Anything else?"

"I read." I can't hold back a goofy smile this time. Jack's favourite time of day is story time, and it's mine too.

"Read what?" She asks. I can feel her eyes on me this time. I don't know how, but I can.

"Swift. Moore. Tynan." My three favourite poets: Jonathan Swift, Thomas Moore and Katharine Tynan – mostly Katharine though.

"I've never heard of those stories. What are they about?" She asks.

"Not stories. They're poets." I correct her. How could she not know?!

"I see." She seems almost happy about something. "And what would be your favourite poem then?"

"Immortality." I can remember each and every word of that poem off the top of my head – it's one of the poems I read for Jack when it's time for his nap.

"I see. Would you recite a part of it for me?" She asks.

"I clothe myself without a stain, In me a child is born again," I can almost hear Jack yawning. He's usually half asleep by the time I get to this stanza – it's the fourth or the fifth I think. Between stanzas I always hum a soft, slow melody for him to help him fall asleep easier. It takes a while to read a full poem that way. "A child that looks with innocent eyes, On a new world with glad surprise."

When I stay silent for a while, she guesses that I've recite all I'm going to. "It's beautiful. Who wrote it?"

"T-tynan." I can't help but smiling. I really do like that poem.

**_8-8_**

* * *

><p>I walk. I should be running – mom doesn't like it when I come in soaked from the rain. I can't bring myself to care enough. I walk.<p>

The way these raindrops kiss my skin, my hair, my clothes. This gorgeous clean air around me. I never did like the world smelling like dust and cattle poop, so I love it when it rains. I can see my house in the distance, and I really should hurry inside before I come down with something. I won't; can't.

Oh, if only I could stay outside in the rain forever, or at least in the shower. Mom doesn't like me taking forever in the shower – she complains that I'll make her spend all her money on the water bill.

All too soon, I'll enter my personal hell. I'll be stripped of all I hold dear by people who praise me one moment, only to slay me the next. No, I'll take my time walking home.

These last hundred steps. I can no longer walk, I trudge. My feet seem unwilling to stray closer to that place. I almost have to drag my leaden shoes up the three steps, and I really do drag them to the door. I enter without knocking, praying no one will notice me. Shaking off as much of the rain I can, I run up the stairs and straight into my room. I grab some clean clothes and run to the bathroom.

Once inside my private fortress, I lock the door and twist the knob to test it. Quickly, all too quickly, I undress and lay my clothes out to dry. For the sake of my comfort, my eyes are trained upward to hide my shame from sight.

I run the water, as hot as I dare to bear. As it claims me, I shiver. The last of that cold fear is swept away in this gorgeous deluge. With an ease only routine can offer, I wash away the worst of the day. I comb my fingers through my hair a few extra times, wondering at how long it has grown and the slight weight I feel shuffling across my neck as it moves.

"Jake! Please don't stay in there forever!" I hear mom shouting through the door. I flinch at the name. Suddenly, as if life is playing some cruel trick on me, I become all too aware of that... _thing_ hanging between my legs.

I sigh. And the shower was doing me so much good too. I sigh again, shut off the water and reach for my towel. With the magic lost, I see no reason to stay here any longer than needed.

_**8-8**_

* * *

><p>Later. At dinner. John's being fussy with his food. He can't seem hold his chopsticks. Julie's being breastfed. Mom cradles her with one hand and sneaks a mouthful of her food every chance she can. "John, please eat your dinner."<p>

"But mommy! My hand huwts!" John complains. He's still not used to eating with chopsticks, or pronouncing the 'r' in a word. Not that I blame him for the chopsticks – too many changes too quickly.

"If you can manage two more mouthfuls, I'll help you with the rest." I say, offering a little smile as well.

"Weally?!" John really is rambunctious and a bit boisterous, but I love him just the same. "Tanks, Jake!" I flinch. Well, I mostly love him just the same. "You'we the bestest big bwothoh! EVOH!" This time I sigh, but I try to smile for him anyway.

I shovel in my meal, chew and swallow. It's mechanical, needful. There is nothing more to it.

"Jake! Dat's two!" John lies. I saw him move his rice twice, nothing more. I scoot over to him anyway – anything to shut him up.

**_8-8_**

* * *

><p>It's bedtime. John grabs his favourite book – whichever that is tonight. Oh, it's <em>Turtwig's Grand Adventure<em>. Last night his favourite was _Professor Piplup_. Gee, what _will_ it be _tomorrow_. Probably something with Chimchar.

I tuck him in and turn off the big light, leaving only his night light to 'read' by. I never read the words of the book he wants – he just likes to look at the pictures. No, I always recite poems from memory. He never makes it to the last stanza anyway, and I doubt he'd care what some grown-up thinks is important about life. No, tonight's story is 'Any Woman' by Katharine Tynan.

"I am the fire upon the hearth, I am the light of the good sun, I am the heat that warms the earth, Which else were colder than a stone." My rhythm is slow and even. My pain subsides for a moment. I hum the lullaby mom used to sing for me – memories of simpler days. The page turns, there's a picture of Turtwig looking surprised about something, but I don't care enough to read what happened.

John yawns, his eyelids grow heavy. I kiss his brow, and continue onto the next stanza. I wonder if I could ever come up with a logical reason for him to call me Devon and never tell mom about it.

_**8-8**_

* * *

><p>Morning comes. I love mornings. Not because I have to wake up, but rather because I never quite wake up enough to remember my troubles. So there's a thirty to forty minute window where I don't know what problems are – the only part of my day I actually like.<p>

I stumble into the bathroom, sit to pee. I wipe with a little toilet paper. I brush my teeth wash my face and I remember to flush to toilet on the way out – I can't count how many times I've gotten in trouble for forgetting to flush.

In my room, I change into something clean – mom only lets me shower once a day, complaining that even that is getting too expensive for her. Then I make my way downstairs. John and Julie are already up and about – John's crawling around after our little sister. I smile at the scene, wondering when things got so complicated in my life.

I don't dare leave without giving both of them a kiss, but I don't tell mom I'm leaving. I ease the door close behind me and I dash down the road. I don't greet the unfamiliar faces – not even the ones that hail me. And before I know it, here I am again. At the Day Care.

Climbing up onto the wooden fence, I gaze at the Pokémon before me. There's a big blue one in the water sloshing about as it goes. It seems to have an angered look painted on its face and doesn't act very nice to the others.

There's a Piplup – I recognize it from John's books. I think that one there is a... Chatot? I don't really know many Pokémon on sight, I guess.

"G'morning!" I look towards the sound, wondering why I recognize the voice. It's Trevor, and he's waving at me. No, he's waving me over to him? Jen is obviously with him too – I recognize the pinkish-red hair.

I ignore both of them. What could they possibly have to say to me? And why would I speak to them when they gave me all that hope of getting a Pokémon, only for it to be taken away. No, the majestic creatures before me are getting my attention.

There's another one I don't recognize – it's small and pink-purple and seems to almost ooze around, like it's really a liquid. I can make out features that look like hands, and there's a bump that has a smile and is winking at a big tan and red fox chewing on a stick. Slowly, the little pink-purple one shifts and churns itself, turning into a clone of the fox? Okay, that's a bit weird.

"Hey." I don't turn to Jen. I know she's there, but I don't want to talk. People only seem to upset me when they talk to me these days. Can I at least not be troubled on my birthday? Just this once? "Trevor told me about him putting his foot in his mouth yesterday. I swear, that boy..."

As interesting as she thinks she is, I'm not in the mood. "Anyway, I have to do my rounds here before I go to the Pokémon Centre. Do you want to tag along?" I just want to be left alone, but I don't have the words to offer her. I shrug. "What's wrong, Devon? What's bothering our birthday girl?"

"N-nothing." I lie. I really don't like talking to people, especially people I'm jealous of.

"So why are you here moping by yourself? And why are you dressed as if you plan on getting dragged through the mud? You should be wearing your prettiest dress and getting your hair done and flaunting that pretty smile of yours." That all sounds great in theory. Only I don't own a dress. And I almost never smile. Just leave me to my misery.

"Is it true that your parents just got divorced?" I'm quick to wipe away a lone tear as it falls. Somehow I'm still naive enough to think she'll leave me be, but that hope is dying fast.

"Hey, I'll tell you what..." What? You'll leave me alone? "If you come with me, I'll take you shopping and we'll pick out a nice dress for you."

"Go away." I'm just barely not begging her – but I would if I thought it would help.

"I can't do that. Not until I understand how I can turn this horrible day into the best day of your life." Great. The only way to shut her up is by me, myself, talking. Wonderful. A real step up. "Come on, Devon. You don't want me to be late and get in trouble because of you, right?" Emotional blackmail already? But we just met.

"I..." Should I trust this person? Should I dare to open up? Should I bare my soul for her perusing pleasure? "I was s-supposed to start my j-journey today." Not a chance in hell.

"So what's stopping you?" She asks, obviously forgetting something important. I nod at a group of Pokémon as they... do whatever Pokémon in a field do. "I know you didn't get a starter Pokémon from here, but didn't you get one back home? I mean, you're eleven today after all."

"Ten." I correct her. "I'm ten."

"Oh?" Confused? "Oh!" Surprised! "Owh..." And there's understanding... I don't even bother to try understanding what she just figured out. I just don't have the brain capacity for it. "So the world's conspiring to ruin your maiden voyage..." I snort at the ironic choice of words.

"Well, that's easy to fix." I don't need more false hope. Please, just leave me be. "You're coming with me, young lady."

"You're not going to leave me alone." I intone. I'm really not in the mood for this.

"The thought hasn't even crossed my mind. Now come on. I don't want to have to drag you."

**_8-8_**

**_End Chapter 1_**

**_8-8_**

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><p><strong><em>AN: Slight change up thanks to a review from _**Imaginary-Friend-Q.


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